


Cake's only good for getting you fat and presents are just a waste of space

by itsonlyapapermoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Just the right amount of gay, M/M, Sweet AF tho, Theyre basically a family, fam - Freeform, foster kid Keith, klance, new alien species, not too much not too little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8394985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsonlyapapermoon/pseuds/itsonlyapapermoon
Summary: Lance was the party guy-- all fiestas, dancing, and karaokes at two in the morning. Keith was the eternally grumpy killjoy who snaps at two in the morning when Lance belts out his favorite Beyonce playlist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Marj!! (Even if this is super late haha)

Under normal circumstances, Keith would speak his mind-- no questions asked. But not when his brain was in danger of being blown to tiny space bits.

Nasty space imps were swiftly making a mess of the Paladin's central command. Tiny alien critters jumped from control board to navigation panel to pilot seat, never lingering on any one distraction for more than a minute.

The ringing in Keith's ears spun the Castle's control center in dizzying circles, long after the phlegmallic rapsor puff-laien's shrill shriek died down.

Lance winced, recoiling from the sudden attack on his eardrums. "Could you tell yours to keep it down a notch?" He yelled as he struggled to keep his voice over the screeching and squeals of the puff-laien.

Keith only mouthed a _fuck you_ , dizzy as he unfortunately received full force of alien wailing. But at least the laser gun wasn't pointed at his temple anymore. Lance wiggled his way to a similarly electrical wire wrapped Keith, moving across the floor like a worm.

Out of breath with beads of sweat like a protective film on his forehead, Lance pulled himself up into a sitting position and whispered, "So what's the plan?"

"Well, when I get out of this I'm throwing you into a wormhole along with the puff lions."

"No, genius," Lance rolled his eyes, "It's pronounced lai-yen. Not lie-ons. Get your alienology right!"

The cotton critters were pests from the planet they'd just liberated from Galra control. They were typically harmless -- only causing uproars in a quiet household's family dinner once or twice a month then exploding in nonthreatening colored puff-works -- much like fireworks -- when the party gets louder. They're the reason Laienians partied as if clubs and dancing were their Sunday church.

"Do something, Lance!"

"I am!"

"When? And don't just hold my hand!"

"I thought you got scared and needed someone to comfort you."

Lance thought they'd be fun pets to keep since five humans and two Alteans couldn't keep a large spaceship-castle from staying too quiet for long. His companions were far too calm for his tastes, especially Keith who seemed to lock himself in the training room when he wasn't chilling or locked himself in his bedroom when he wasn't training.

"When we get out of this room, I swear I'm gonna--" Keith was cut off with an oof as Lance shoved the red Paladin to the floor nearly avoiding having their heads smashed in. The Laiens only laughed harder at the sight of the two space heroes tangled up on the floor.

It was Allura's idea to trap Lance and Keith in a room full of hyper-excited puff-laiens. And while Lance found the thought of the aliens annoying a stone faced Keith amusing, he hadn't considered becoming a target himself.

Lance was the party guy-- all fiestas, dancing, and karaokes at two in the morning. Keith was the eternally grumpy killjoy who snaps at two in the morning when Lance belts out his favorite Beyonce playlist. So keeping Keith in good spirits -- looking annoyed was lightyears better than looking sad -- was no biggie for the great Lance.

But as it turns out, a sad Keith was too formidable an opponent for even the great Lance. Pidge or Coran might have seen Keith and said he looked the same (and they did, that same morning). Even Shiro, the most sensitive of the five paladins (and two Alteans), didn't find anything wrong with Keith.

But Lance saw something -- maybe it was the way Keith walked with his head held a little higher to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. Or hell, even sensed something in the extra effort to smile at Coran's stories or in the absence of complaint in assisting Pidge rewire the castle's weapons system. He couldn't put a finger on it, but Lance knew something was bothering Keith enough to act less like-- well, _Keith_.

The first thirty minutes alone in the room became painfully awkward for the two adolescent boys. Even the puffs were starting to pity Lance's failed attempts at lame jokes. Looking at the cool and normally unfazed Keith's darting eyes, hair a mess and a face full of marker scribbles (a puff-laien masterpiece), Lance could tell Keith would give anything to get that uncomfortable silence back.

But if Lance were being honest, Keith looked more relaxed sitting right there than he had that morning.

Keith catches Lance staring whilst deep in thought. The blue paladin jumps, hoping the blush creeping on his face isn't noticeable.

"What!", it comes out more defensive and less questioning.

The red paladin squints, leaning forward, and lets out a groan in disgust, "Why isn't your face drawn on?"

It takes a moment to register, but before Lance gets a chance to open his mouth in response, a single note fills the room in a clear and steady pitch. The aliens stop in their tracks as if a spectator had just hit the pause button at the most inconvenient time possible.

"What," Keith begins, looking around unsure of how to continue his sentence, "was that?"

Lance locates the source of the note, a grin spreading on his face. "Well, it's about time."

Allura stands by the door with a strange looking whistle poised in front of her mouth. A big goofy grin matching Lance's plays on her lips.

"Allura, what the heck? You could've done that sooner." Keith says as he wiggles around to face the princess properly.

"If I did that, then the puff-laiens wouldn't be properly lit." She explains cryptically.

Lance and Keith share a glance. Keith tilting his head towards Lance and Lance shrugging his shoulders in reply.

Allura smiles and calls over her shoulder, "Are you ready, boys?" Without waiting for an answer, Allura blows her whistle again playing a different, familiar song.

It takes a while longer for Keith to recognize the tune as he was too busy watching the puff-laien explode in colorful puffs and little black and very dizzy-looking aliens floating to the floor.

By the time Keith recognizes the song, Hunk is behind him untying the electrical wires. Shiro and Pidge are wheeling in a gigantic, three-tiered, chocolate frosted cake. Happy Birthday is on its second round and the paladins surround Keith accompanying the song's instrumental (Pidge is taking pictures for future blackmail uses). Coran helps a dazed looking Keith to his feet and laughs patting him hard on the back. Keith catches Lance's gaze and the boy only grins offering no other explanation but a big thumbs up.

The final chorus of Happy Birthday slows down and the lights in the control room dim.

If Keith were looking at anywhere but the eighteen dancing flames, he might've seen the stars passing by in magnificent constellations exactly how he pictured them as a boy still stuck on earth. He might've been thinking again of previous birthdays spent alone in foster homes or of watching the sky turn light blue as he counts the years down until he could finally live by himself.

If Keith were being honest with himself, he didn't want to talk to anyone at all. He wanted to spend the day sparring in the training room. He thought this birthday was going to be the best yet; what foster kid gets to spend their eighteenth birthday on an ancient alien spaceship hurtling through space at the speed of light with a legendary five-piece robot in its trunk?

It didn't matter he wouldn't be getting any presents or birthday greetings. It was fine. It has been always fine.

But Coran seemed to have more stories to tell. Pidge dragged him everywhere fixing servers that were perfectly secure. Allura and Shiro had more battle tactics they wanted to go over. Hunk had him taste twelve different dishes for their week's menu. And Lance with his stupid pranks who managed to get him locked in a room with the strangest aliens that puff up and pop out when they hear an earth celebration song.

Now he stands in front of a melting cake with red iced words he thought he'd never see in his lifetime -- "Happy Birthday Keith!" -- in messy and wobbly script. He was too afraid to look away for fear that it might all be a dream.

"Go on, Keith." Lance says, "Make a wish." Lance could see the dam behind his eyes threatening to burst. His stance is the most relaxed Lance has seen all day. His hair is a mess and the scribbles on his cheek smear as he brings a hand to wipe the tears off.

Keith looks at him and realizes he was right. The birthday boy chokes, "Shut up. I know what to do."

It _is_ the best birthday ever.

Lance watches as Keith squeezes his eyes shut, just like a kid at their seventh birthday party. The candles blow out, the room softly illuminated by galaxies and systems.

Cheers go up and the party officially begins. Hunk throws his arm around the birthday boy's neck and everyone follows suit, crowding around the squished Keith.

Under normal circumstances, Keith would wriggle free and leave the group hug panting for air and straightening his perfectly permed hair.

Instead Keith attempts to frown, pretending to hate having his personal space invaded but his face is flushed crimson and he gives up. Lance smiles to himself as Keith's laughter joins the rest of the gang's.

 _There's the Keith I know._ Lance thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, "Laien" is basically "Alien"


End file.
